


Lessons Learned

by tiredandjaded (CallingVersatile)



Series: kisses 'verse [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 'cause i feel like they'd be good friends, Bonding over food, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Kissing, alya and adrien get to know each other, and adrien needs more ppl on his side, as of chapter 3 there's a straight up alyanette chapter, eventual alyadrienette, friendship fic, probably not going to get any more risque than that, so that's part of this mix as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallingVersatile/pseuds/tiredandjaded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After one Chloe attack too many, Nino is tired of seeing his best friend look so uncomfortable. If Adrien can't stand up for himself, then someone will have to teach him. It just so happens that Alya is the perfect girl for the job... when Marinette's interest and her current relationship with Alya enter play, who knows what will happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all. this is the beginning of a project i've been thinking of for a long-ass time. It's gonna feature Adrien, Marinette, and Alya, and I plan to use each of their perspectives. It's also gonna be a shipping fic! I'm really excited to finally post this, and I hope you enjoy.

“Lessons?” 

“Yes, lessons,” Nino explained for the second time. “With Alya.” 

It didn’t make any more sense than it had the first time. Adrien tried to rack his brain for what kind of lessons he could need from Alya--and why Nino of all people had taken it upon himself to sign him up for them. He didn’t like to brag, but he really didn’t need lessons for any of his classes. Nino had never really applied himself to school in the same way he had, either. A small tinge of suspicion grew in the back of Adrien’s mind. 

“Are you going to tell me what kind of lessons they are?” he asked patiently. 

“Nope!”

Adrien groaned. He knew it. This was smelling more and more like a scheme. 

“C’mon, dude,” Nino said. “It’ll be fun, just trust me. Alya’s cool.” 

Nino didn’t seem like he was willing to let this go. While Adrien considered his options, his friend rambled on. “She said to meet her outside the school at lunchtime. I know you’ve got lunch free today, so don’t try and get out of it.” 

“Okay, okay,” he finally said. “I can see you’re dead set on this, for some reason. I’ll go.” 

Nino cheered. 

 

Class that day was a little strange for Adrien. He managed to resist the urge to look behind him, but it was difficult. Alya was whispering nonstop to Marinette (and vice versa), just a touch too quietly for him to make out the words. 

Taking notes proved harder than usual. After his attention had drifted for the third time from Ms. Bustier’s lesson, he gave up. When she turned to write on the chalkboard, Adrien ripped a page out of his notebook and quickly folded it in half. 

_So what should I know about Alya?_ He wrote, and surreptitiously passed it to his friend. Nino barely lifted his hand to slide the note over, not taking his eyes off the chalkboard. A true professional. 

His reply came a minute later. _What u mean?_

_I mean, we’ve talked, but I don’t really know her. You’re her friend, right?_ he wrote. 

Nino started to respond, then stopped. Erased what he had written, started again. After a couple of tried, he slipped the note over. 

_She’s cool, slightly terrifying, and could probably kick my ass. She’s obsessed with Ladybug, too. You’ll get along great._

Well, that was… interesting and promising, respectively. Adrien didn’t have the chance to find out any more about her, as the lunch bell rang suddenly. 

It was lunch time. 

Before he could leave the room, Adrien was ambushed. When he tried to get even a tiny piece of information out of Nino, his friend gave him an excuse of “going to study” and quickly left. As if Nino would ever resort to studying during lunch hours. 

“Adrien?” 

A voice shook him from his thoughts and Adrien turned to face the speaker. It was Alya, with Marinette a few paces behind her. The pigtailed girl looked almost as if she was trying to hide behind her friend. 

“Hello Alya, hello Marinette,” he said, greeting them politely. “So, Nino told me I was having…” 

“Lessons,” Alya confirmed. She was wearing a smile that bordered on a smirk, and her eyes glittered with excitement. 

Adrien was slightly worried. 

“Is Marinette coming too?” he asked. 

“Pshh, her? She isn’t in need of my teachings,” Alya said dismissively. 

“I’m still not sure if these lessons are a good idea,” Marinette said, finally chiming in. Wait, Marinette was here- she was someone with common sense. Maybe she could shed some light on these mysterious lessons?

“I don’t suppose you can tell me what I’m gonna be learning?” Adrien asked hopefully.

The girl looked like she was sorely tempted, but bit her tongue and glanced away instead. 

“Sorry, Adrien. I’ve already been sworn to secrecy.” 

Honestly, he wasn’t too disappointed. Nino’s surprises could be… a little ridiculous, sure. But they were never boring, and Alya’s attitude of excitement was getting to him. 

“Alright, no more wasting time!” Alya said suddenly. “We’ve got somewhere to be. And you, babe, have to be at Mylene’s house for that project in ten minutes.” 

Marinette’s face was suddenly the picture of horror. She was frozen for a second, two seconds, before snapping into motion. 

“Shit, you’re right,” she hissed. Without further ado, she raced to her desk and grabbed her backpack. She practically flew down the center of the classroom, only to stop suddenly. Quickly turning on her heel, Marinette rushed back to Alya and planted a hurried kiss on her. Without further ado, she threw open the door and raced out. “Bye Alya,” she shouted. “Bye Adrien!”

Huh. Adrien hadn’t known the two girls were… like that. He turned to Alya, only to find her staring at the door with an expression he could only describe as _enamored._

“So…” he said uncertainly, breaking the silence of the empty classroom. Alya started. 

“Right! You like Chinese food?” 

“I-sure, I guess. Why?” 

“Awesome, follow me. I know a place.” Alya grabbed his wrist and began tugging him towards the door. Not knowing what else to do, but hoping that Alya wouldn’t lead him anywhere overtly dangerous, Adrien followed. 

As they walked, they talked. Alya never seemed to run out of things to say, her voice a constant stream of questions and observation. She didn’t seem to mind that Adrien wasn’t talking as much, though, which he appreciated. Suddenly, she stopped. 

“Oh, cool, we’re nearly here.” She pointed to a small red sign wedged between two larger storefronts, and began leading them in that direction. “It’s this place called Golden House- I know, pretty much the most generic name ever, but the food is _godly._ I’m convinced their chef sold his soul to the devil or something.” 

Adrien, having no idea what a generic Chinese food restaurant name sounded like, was at a loss. How should he respond to this sort of rapid-fire chatter? Nino’s manner and style of conversation had been unfamiliar to him at first, but this girl was on another level. 

Thankfully, she seemed no less cheerful for his silence. 

“We’re he-re,” she sang out, stretching out the second word like a taffy. Alya opened the door and marched right in, pushing on the plastic screen to keep the door ajar for Adrien. He quickly darted in behind her. 

The restaurant wasn’t much to look at. Not much light made it in from outside, so the quietly buzzing incandescent lights in the ceiling flooded the room with washed out light. There were six tables, four mostly matching chairs seated at each of them. There wasn’t much on the walls save for a large print menu. 

However, these details all became secondary as soon as a wonderful smell hit his nose. Adrien, who had never been allowed to visit an establishment serving such greasy food, had no way to describe it. He did know without a doubt that he wanted several servings of it, as soon as possible. 

His stomach evidently agreed, and let out an extremely conspicuous gurgle. With no one else in the restaurant, there was no way she hadn’t heard it. 

“Same,” Alya said automatically, even before Adrien had begun to apologize. 

“What?” 

“Same? As in, me too?” 

Adrien stared at her, uncomprehending. Alya rolled her eyes. 

“As in, I'm hungry too, let’s eat. Follow me, Agreste.” 

Once more, she reached out to take Adrien’s wrist--but this time, as soon as she touched him, she recoiled. 

“Aw, fuck--I'm sorry, I've totally been, like, grabbing you and shit. Never even asked if it was okay.” 

“It's fine,” Adrien said. “I don’t mind.” 

He was met with a flat stare. 

“Really,” asked Alya. Under her watchful gaze, one eyebrow perfectly cocked, it felt more like a statement than a question. 

“Well… maybe you could hold a bit less tightly?” The request was awkward and timid, his voice rising in pitch towards the end of the sentence. Despite this, Alya smiled, and reached for him once more. 

Smooth fingers encircled his wrist with exaggerated care. She lifted his arm daintily--what might have felt like a mocking gesture was offset by that friendly, amazing grin. He felt like he was in some sort of scheme with her, like she was taking him along to someplace special. Adrien allowed himself to be lead further towards the heavenly smell. 

Alya chose a table nestled into the corner, close to the kitchen. She pulled out a chair with her foot and plopped herself down into the one across it, causing it to slide a few inches. Adrien carefully set his bag down and took a seat. He scanned the table for a menu, but saw only a caddy of various sauces. 

“Someone’ll bring us menus in a sec,” Alya said, noticing his gaze. She then leaned in, eyes glinting in the low light. “In the meantime… we can talk.” 

The tone that his classmate’s voice had taken on could only be described as predatory, and despite the warm air that filled the restaurant, Adrien had to suppress a shiver. 

He definitely understood what Nino had meant when he described Alya as “terrifying.” 

“Talk?” Adrien asked, finally remembering that _words are a thing, dumbass._

“I’ve got some questions for you,” Alya clarified. “A test of sorts. To see if you’re a worthy candidate.” 

Well, if he hadn’t felt like he was being interrogated before, he definitely did now. 

“Um… go ahead,” Adrien ventured. Alya put her hands on the table and stared at him intently. 

“Ladybug or Chat Noir?” 

“Ladybug,” he said immediately, because it wasn’t even a question. Choosing himself would just feel weird, but even more so than that… well, it was Ladybug. The question answered itself for Adrien. 

Across the table, Alya pumped a fist in the air. 

“I knew you were more than a pretty face!” she exulted. “Alright, test’s over, you pass.” 

“I--That was only one question!” Adrien protested. He couldn’t say _why_ he did; being on the receiving end of that stare was more daunting than some of the akuma he had faced down, but he protested nonetheless. 

(Stares from puppies were also more daunting than a certain pigeon themed villain that he and his Lady had fought, but Adrien liked to put that encounter firmly behind him). 

“Yes, but it was the most important question,” Alya countered. Adrien just laughed. This girl was impossible to argue with. 

“I can accept that,” he said. 

“Like, don’t get me wrong,” the girl continued. “Chat Noir does a whole lot for our city. More than some people give him credit for. But Ladybug is just…” 

“She’s Ladybug,” he agreed. Alya beamed. 

“Finally, someone who gets it! Whenever I talk about her, Nino calls me weird, and Mari just blushes--I think the girl’s got the hots for LB and doesn’t want to admit it, but c’mon, who doesn’t? 

“She’s amazing,” Adrien said wistfully. 

With a soft thunk, two glasses of ice water were placed down on the table. Two menus, sheathed in clear plastic, followed them. 

“Sup, Long?” Alya asked their waiter. 

“Thank you,” Adrien added quickly. 

Long raised an eyebrow at Adrien, but nodded to him. Turning to Alya, he rolled his eyes and signed something at her in a rapid flurry of hand movement. 

“Yeah, that sounds like her. Hang in there, dude,” she said sympathetically. Long turned to walk back to the kitchen, but Adrien was pretty sure he saw him hiding a smile. “That was Long,” Alya said to him. 

“Seemed pretty short to me,” Adrien mumbled automatically. 

“Did you just--Oh my god. Adrien Agreste, did you just pun at me?” 

_Why. Why would you do this to me, brain._

“No, I--I mean, I didn’t--that is--” he stammered, desperately trying to come up with a way this wouldn’t end in Alya making fun of him. 

“We are going to have _so much fun,_ ” Alya crowed triumphantly. 

_Wait, what?_

Adrien peeked up from where he had slumped down on the table. Alya was grinning her trademark grin, already talking a mile a minute. 

“Puns drive Marinette up a wall, it’s hilarious. She has like zero chill, one time-”

“Thanks,” Adrien said, letting his shoulders fall in relief. Alya looked bewildered. 

“What?” 

“I thought you were going to make fun of me,” he admitted, then looked down. Adrien waited for her response, staring at the stained linoleum. When it didn’t come, he dared to lift his head and peek at the girl before him. 

Said girl was looking at Adrien with a mix of indignation and… concern? Finally, she spoke. 

“Who the hell would do something like that?” 

_Time to backpedal._

“I, I don’t know, I just thought-” 

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you, ever. So don’t worry about it.” Alya seemed to consider her words. “Well, I might make fun of you in a friendly way, but I do that that to everyone, even my girlfriend.” 

For the second time in as many minutes, relief flooded Adrien’s body. 

“Okay. I don’t mind that,” he said, giving Alya a little smile. 

Also for the second time, he was startled by the sudden arrival of their waiter. So much for his catlike senses. Long raised a single eyebrow at Alya. 

“Can I get a small crab rangoon, hot and sour soup, and a small, actually a large pork fried rice?” 

Their waiter nodded and turned to Adrien. 

“Any recommendations?” he asked Alya as he scanned the menu. His Chinese tutoring meant that he wasn’t entirely in the dark--he wasn’t going to embarrass himself by asking what a chow mein was. A little guidance wouldn’t hurt, though. 

“Literally everything here is good, dude,” came the reply. So much for that. 

“I’ll have a small pork lo mein, and an order of spring rolls,” Adrien said before he could get overwhelmed by all the options. Besides, as his stomach had reminded him earlier, he really was hungry. 

Long nodded to him, took their menus, and, apparently needing no aid in remembering their order, walked back to the kitchen. 

The wait for their food to arrive was a pleasant one. Alya kept Adrien highly engaged in a conversation about, of course, Ladybug. He told her that he loved the work she did with the Ladyblog, and she asked him if he had any encounters with Ladybug to share. 

(Adrien of course had plenty, but nothing that he could tell the reporter). 

Not ten minutes later, their food arrived. He dug in with the enthusiasm of a starved cat, albeit one with well-trained table manners. 

His first bite of the savory noodle dish was an explosion of flavor, rich with salt and oil. Adrien had no way to describe what he was tasting, so he didn’t, instead electing to take a second and third bite. 

“This is really good!” he said excitedly after swallowing. Alya hadn’t started yet--she was watching him with a satisfied smile on her face. 

“I knew you’d like it,” she said. “The fanciest chefs in the world can’t compare to whatever delicious, horribly unhealthy magic goes on in that kitchen. Sometimes you can’t do better than junk food.” 

“You don’t have to convince me, I’d eat like this more if I could,” Adrien said around a bite of stir-fried broccoli. 

A frown. _Shouldn’t have brought that up, idiot._ He was sure that Alya was going to say something, but after a moment she just reached for a spoon and began digging in to her impressive spread of food. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Alya slammed her utensils down on the table, triumphant. She let out a deeply satisfied sigh, sliding down in her chair. 

“Whew! I dunno if I’ll be able to make it back to the school. Y’might have to leave without me.” 

Adrien had finished eating far before her, with room for more. Ever observant, Alya had insisted on letting him try some of everything she had ordered, each of which was delicious in a different way. He wanted to go back here, Adrien realized. He wanted to try everything on this menu, if he could. 

And… he wanted to try them with friends. 

“Hello? Adrien? You’re supposed to say, ‘No, Alya, I could never leave you behind.’”

“Sorry! I spaced out for a bit there.” Adrien rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, avoiding Alya’s narrowing gaze. 

“No worries,” she said breezily. “So. I suspect you’ve got some questions for me.” 

“I… what?” 

Alya gestured impatiently. 

“You know? The lessons?” 

“Right! The lessons.” The lessons that Adrien had completely forgotten, caught up as he had been in good food and his meandering conversation with Alya. “What are the lessons?” 

“You are getting… meanness lessons!” She slammed her hands down on the table for emphasis as she said this, startling an old woman placing her order. Adrien gave a flat stare. 

“Alya, I have no idea what that means.” 

“I told Nino that was a bad name,” she grumbled. At the mention of his friend’s name, Adrien’s apprehension returned like a skulking shadow. Why had he taken such care to be vague about it this morning? “It’s like this,” Alya continued. “Nino told me you’re bad at saying no to people, so I’m gonna teach you how to be a little mean when you need to.” 

He was halfway out of his seat and reaching for his bag by the time she had finished talking. He couldn’t deal with this, not today. There was nothing wrong with how Chloe treated him, he was _fine,_ he-

“Adrien, please. Just hear me out.” 

The raw honesty in Alya’s voice shook him, and he turned to look at her, bag still in hand. She was standing now, eyes fixed on his with a look of determination. 

Slowly, carefully, Adrien returned to his seat. Alya stared at her plate, brow furrowed in concentration. 

“Chloe treats you like shit,” she said abruptly. She must have seen Adrien’s look of growing frustration, and spoke even more firmly. “Look, I don’t care if she’s your best bud, that girl has no concept of personal space that isn’t her own. Or even what the word “no” means half the time. You can’t tell me that’s not true, can you?” 

He couldn’t. He still felt obligated to come to her defense, of course--old habits die hard--but… well, Adrien had seen firsthand how Chloe treated people. The day she had ordered her friend/minion Sabrina to lock Juleka in the bathroom had been the final straw. Especially with Marinette finally warming up to him, it just didn’t feel right to stand up for the girl who so incessantly bullied his new friend. 

“I guess,” Adrien admitted begrudgingly. 

“Just let me try to help. One chance.” 

Adrien had always known his inability to say no to confident, self-assured girls was going to get him in trouble one day. This was so dumb. 

“I don’t know, Alya…” 

“You don’t even have to choose today, alright?” 

“...Alright. I’ll think about it.” 

Alya cheered--actually cheered, loud and warm and excited in the tiny restaurant. This was followed immediately by a gasp of horror. 

“What’s wrong?” Adrien asked, hoping that for once it wasn’t an akuma. Plagg shifted inside his bag. 

“We’re… gonna be late!” 

(They did end up making it to class in time, though just barely. Adrien insisted on footing the bill, to which Alya had no objections, and they ran the whole way back. They burst through the door, short of breath but victorious, with a mere ten seconds to spare. Alya high fived Adrien as they made their way to their respective seats).  
He was just starting to unpack his notes when he felt it, a short buzz from his backpack. Was someone texting him? 

When the teacher was well occupied with correcting another student, Adrien reached into his backpack. One new message, from an unknown number. 

_Hey nerd_  
_Today was fun_  
_Whatever u choose wrt lessons, u should hang out with me and mari sometime._

_(this is alya, nino gave me ur #)_

Adrien’s prized poker face was in danger of breaking. He locked the phone and stuffed it back in his backpack, trying not to grin. In truth, he was over the moon. Making friends had not come easily to Adrien. Getting along with people, sure. Politeness had been ingrained in him from a very young age, but while it served him well at dinner parties, it only went so far in making meaningful connections with people. But now… Alya wanted to hang out with him. She liked his jokes, or at least thought they would drive her girlfriend crazy. 

“So how’d it go?” Nino asked, looking far too smug. 

“Better than expected,” Adrien admitted. 

“I knew it! Should’ve trusted in your bro.” 

“I give all credit to Alya.” 

Behind him, he heard Alya snicker. Nino protested, demanding credit for his genius, and Adrien smiled. 

Maybe he had learned a lesson or two.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya intercepts Nino after her lunch with Adrien to fill him in on the "situation." we get a recounting of how the lessons came to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wasn't planning to have a Nino perspective chapter this early on (or even at all, really), but this sort of just happened. I wanted to fill in some of the "backstory" on how this came to be, and since Adrien's whole problem is that he won't admit there's a problem, this had to come from another character. Nino was just the obvious fit. He is the bestest of friends.

“Nino!” 

Nino, who had been walking out of Chemistry class, turned his head in the direction of the voice. Before he could even begin to identify, however, he was grabbed by the shirt collar and dragged off to locker 1192. 

While this might be the sort of thing that would inspire some people to panic, or struggle, Nino was quite familiar with this experience. If someone had told him on his first day of the school year that he’d get used to being kidnapped, he would have called them a liar. 

Oh, well. That was being friends with Alya for you.

Finally, she let go of his poor t-shirt. 

“You didn’t tell me he was so… lonely!” Alya hissed to a confused Nino. She had grabbed him by the shirt after class and hauled him off to her locker, intent on giving him a talking to. Slowly, the confusion plainly written on his face turned to understanding. 

She was talking about the plan, of course. After one too many Chloe attacks, Nino was done with inaction. He’d tried talking to Adrien about it. 

“You know, standing up for yourself and shit,” Nino had said. Catching Adrien on one of his rare (inhumanely so, if you asked Nino) free afternoons was a stroke of luck he wasn’t going to let go to waste. “Like, telling people when they make you super uncomfortable?” 

“Yeah,” Adrien had responded. He then rubbed the back of his head, because as perfect as his Gabriel Agreste Mandated Poker-Face was, he _always_ had that tell. “I guess.” 

Nino had gone home that day feeling like he might have made some progress. Just a tiny bit. 

Nothing changed. After a month of _maybe he just needs more time,_ of watching his best friend’s shoulders slump with the weight of responsibility, of watching him flinch when Chloe reached out to grab him, Nino had decided that outside help was needed. Adrien wasn’t going to help himself. That much was clear. But like the amazing best friend he was, Nino was going to find some way to help him. 

Alya seemed like the perfect candidate. She was good with people, and very easy to be friends with, provided you were a decent person. Not only that, but she liked helping people. 

(Privately, Nino thinks that it’s because she wants to be a superhero. But he would fear for his safety should that theory ever see daylight, so private it remains). 

Alya hadn’t even taken much talking into to get her to do the idea, though she had stipulated that this was just for the first “lesson.” She had, after some thought, told him that she would require a song as payment. Nino, who would probably have made her a song if she’d just asked, gladly agreed. They had had their fun with the planning stage, but today was the day it actually went into action. 

“Oh, yeah… He’s kinda like that. I’m surprised he opened up to you that much, really,” Nino said. 

“You shouldn’t be; I’m an excellent reporter,” Alya said modestly. Nino rolled his eyes, and she continued. “But also, it’s more like he doesn’t even realize--”

“That’s the point,” Nino said, cutting her off. “He doesn’t. Or won’t let himself, maybe. I don’t know. But I’ve tried talking to him, and nothing’s worked. Maybe I’m just going about it the wrong way.” 

Alya mulled his words over.. 

“Screw you, Nino,” she finally said. “For involving me in this… pretty boy nonsense. Honestly, I’ve got enough problems on my own. There’s akuma to film, fan mail to answer, school work to do, posts to write, and I’ve got a girlfriend-”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before.” 

“Shut up--fuck, where was I?” 

“You just avoided falling into the “let’s spend 30 minutes talking about my girlfriend” trap.” 

“Oh. I’m done, then,” Alya finally.

Despite that spirited display of griping, he was pretty sure he had this one in the bag. Alya wouldn’t be complaining this much if she was just going to say no. 

“So… you’ll do it?” 

“I'm not gonna "do it," she said, rolling her eyes as if she herself wasn't prone to dramatic phrasing. "But yeah," Alya continued, looking around as if worried she might be overheard. "He... looks like he needs a friend." 

_You don't know the half of it,_ Nino thought. He tried to push the feeling aside. Getting too worked up on Adrien's behalf... well, it had backfired once in the biggest way possible. 

"Thanks a ton, Alya," he said, fixing her with a grin. 

"Don't thank me, I'm not doing it for you. It's for him." She was already walking away from him, terminating their conversation in the typical Alya fashion of wandering off to her next class. When he was sure she couldn't see him, Nino grinned even wider. 

He _knew_ he had chosen the right person to help. Hook, line and sinker. No one with a heart could resist the Adrien Agreste charm, and Alya was no exception. Once you got past the awkwardness and truly got to know him, there was a pure goodness to Adrien that compelled you to help, in any way possible. There was simply no resisting it. 

(For those wondering, Nino counted himself as the first victim of the Adrien Agreste charm). 

(He couldn't be happier about it).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, comments are much appreciated. telling me what you thought about/what you're wondering about the story keeps me motivated to write more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya catches Marinette up on today's events with Adrien. They get a bit distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just fucking, take this... i didn't mean for it to be alyanette but @larvesta is a huge enabler

Getting out of school was far and away the best part of Alya’s day. 

It wasn’t that she disliked school. Quite the opposite--aside from the not-infrequent bouts of friction between her and a certain stuck up spawn of a politician, school was a rewarding experience for Alya. The teachers were fine, if a little spineless. She liked her friends. 

But in the month or so since she’d started dating Marinette, the end of the school day had come to represent much more than just leaving the classroom. The end of the school day meant walking her girlfriend (she was never gonna get tired of that word) home. It was a little sliver of time when she was guaranteed to have Marinette all to herself, away from distractions and worksheets and teachers who “don’t appreciate public displays of affection.” 

Whatever. 

“Alya!” 

Marinette’s voice cut through the throng of commuting students, drawing Alya’s attention in a way only Marinette could. She scanned the crowd spilling forth from the college’s open doors for a few seconds--and was taken completely off guard by an aggressive hug. Strong arms encircled her from behind, the warmth and affection immediately recognizable to Alya, and she relaxed into the embrace. 

“That make-up test was brutal,” Marinette complained, resting her chin on Alya’s shoulder. 

“That’s why we don’t skip class the day of a test, babe.” 

“I didn’t skip class.” 

“Right. You just… didn’t show up.” 

Marinette removed herself from Alya’s shoulder and fixed her with with an affronted stare. It was a pretty solid stare--really got the indignation down. Alya went ahead and ruined it by pressing a feather-light kiss on the tip of her nose, causing Marinette to blush and break eye contact. 

“Don’t worry, Mari, I’ll still love you when you’re a delinquent dropout.” 

“I can’t believe my own girlfriend is calling me out like this,” she grumbled. 

Alya took her hand and together they walked down the steps and out of the Collège Françoise Dupont. 

The walk from school to Marinette’s house was a very short one, so the two girls tended to take a more meandering route through the park on their way home. A walk through the park turned into a quick rest on a park bench. A quick rest on a park bench turned into, well… 

“Not so loud,” Alya whispered, low and intense. Marinette didn’t allow her to continue, taking her breath away with a passionate kiss. Alya was aware of every point of contact between them, Marinette’s thighs straddling her own, her chest pressed up against her, her _hands_ -

Suddenly Marinette’s hand was on her face, fingers brushing her jaw lovingly. Alya could feel the smile on her girlfriend’s lips as they kissed. When they got to be alone like this, Marinette could be affectionate enough to make Alya’s head spin. Every touch, every smile and whisper and glance… it made her feel cherished. 

They broke apart--an inch at most, each breathing hard. Marinette giggled, bright and airy and so damn _happy_ , Alya felt as an ache in her chest. It felt like satisfaction, like pride--because she was the one to make Marinette this happy. She had found the most amazing girl in the world, kindhearted and righteous and with a laugh that could bring about world peace, _and she wasn’t straight._

Life couldn’t get any better than this. 

That was, of course, exactly the point at which Marinette’s phone began to ring, causing the girl to yelp in surprise and twist off of Alya’s lap. Alya reached for her, but it was too late--Marinette fell unceremoniously onto the grass, phone spilling from her hand onto the ground. She clutched for it as the ringtone continued to blare, finally managing to take the call. 

“Hi! Um, yes, maman?” Marinette answered the call laying on the ground. She paused for a response, too quiet for Alya to hear--and then her eyes grew wide. 

“Did I remember? Remem--oh! Oh yes, of course I remembered! I’m almost home, don’t even worry about it!” 

She held the phone to her ear a moment longer. 

“Yes okay I’ll see you in a few minutes, bye maman!” 

Marinette slammed the phone down on the grass and rolled over to lay on her stomach. Nose pressed against the grass, she let out a long groan. 

“Mom says hi,” she informed Alya, who blinked in confusion. 

“But you didn’t tell her I was…” 

“Yeah, she just kinda… knew…” 

Alya flushed. Sabine was great, of course. She had taken the news of Marinette and Alya’s relationship in stride, like she seemed to take everything. Nothing but accepting and kind. 

But that stare… the stare that said _“I know you’ve been making out with my daughter when she should be studying.”_

It was terrifying. 

Alya offered Marinette a hand up, and they were out of the park and walking down the street to the bakery. 

“So, lemme guess: You were supposed to take a shift at the bakery, and forgot?” 

Marinette hung her head in shame. 

“You know me so well, Alya…” 

“It’s alright, I can’t blame you. I am pretty distracting.” Was she laying it on a little thick? Maybe. But heavy-handed flirting always got such a rise out of Marinette; Alya couldn’t help herself. 

“Oh, you have no idea.” One little comment, directed more at the ground than at Alya, but she snapped to attention anyways. It was that damn tone of voice--the fact that frustration sounded so hot on Marinette was uniquely unfair. 

“You wanna elaborate?” she asked casually. 

“It’s that shirt,” Marinette said, running her fingers along the hem as if Alya needed clarification. No, she was doing this to mess with her--the way her knuckles brushed up against her skin in smooth, weightless touches was too precise to be anything but deliberate. 

And holy hell, was it working. 

“Y-yeah?” Alya stammered. They were standing still, now--When had they stopped walking? When she leaned back, there was cool brick behind her. The side of a store, cement wall tagged with posters and graffiti. 

“Yeah. I couldn’t stop thinking…” She leaned in at an angle, half-lidded eyes staring at Alya with obvious desire. “How much better you look without-”

"NICE LEGS DAISY DUKES MAKES A MAN GO-"

For the second time that day, Marinette's ringtone erupted from her phone, ruining their moment with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.

Alya could have screamed. She nearly did, in fact, but settled for sliding down the wall with a groan of defeat, taking a few posters with her as she did. 

_Why. Why me. I’m a good person, sort of, I don’t deserve this._

“I got it, mom, baking _soda_ not baking _powder._ See you in a few!” Marinette slipped her phone back into her purse and let out a long suffering sigh. 

“She wants me to pick up some baking soda, then get right home…” 

Alya pulled herself to her feet reluctantly. As tempting as the thought of standing here kissing Marinette all day was (and it was extremely tempting), she didn’t want to get Marinette in trouble. 

“Let’s go, then.” 

* * *

While Marinette combed the aisles in search of baking soda, Alya wracked her brain. There was _something_ she had been meaning to say to Marinette, right? Something about school today, about… 

“Adrien!” 

A box of baking powder Marinette had been trying to reshelf fell to the ground as the girl whipped around to face Alya, who didn’t even bother to contain a snicker. 

“What are you talking about?” she asked, clearly baffled. 

“That’s what I was forgetting--I was gonna tell you about my lunch with Adrien!” 

The fallen box of baking powder was slammed back into the shelf with more force than was strictly necessary. 

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I forgot! Tell me everything,” Marinette demanded. She finally found the 8 ounce container she was looking for; the two girls made a beeline for the cashier, Alya explaining as they walked. 

“Hmm, where to start… I took him to Golden House, we talked a bunch. I’m pretty sure that’s the only time he’s been to a junk food restaurant, which is pretty messed up.” 

Marinette tugged on her hand impatiently, and they crossed the street at an intersection. 

“I know, you wanna hear about Adrien. Honestly… I didn’t expect to like him nearly as much as I did! He was a little awkward at first, but he’s actually a total dork. Oh, and he adores Ladybug. Not as much as I do, of course. But at least he’s got good taste,” Alya said approvingly. 

The clerk who was ringing them up cleared his throat impatiently; Marinette handed him a bill without looking over and nodded at Alya to continue, transfixed. 

“I dunno, girl. You know Adrien, sort of. You said you’d been talking more, right?” 

“Well…” Marinette took her change, and the plastic bag containing the baking soda. “Not as much as I’d like,” she admitted. 

“I mean, we’re friendlier, but I still… well, you know how I get around him.” 

Alya offered her a sympathetic pat on the back. 

“You’ve got it bad for him, I know. But hey, this can be your chance! I draw him into our friend group with my irresistible friendliness and charm, and you seduce him and get some of that hot Agreste action.” 

“Oh my god.” Even with Marinette’s hands covering her face, Alya could see her grinning. 

“I’m serious! This dork isn’t gonna know what hit him.” 

They were almost at the bakery by now, the elegant writing of the storefront just visible at the end of the block. 

It was a shame that she had to go, but it was only until tomorrow. Their “walk home” had already made Alya’s day, honestly. And besides-

“I do for you too, you know.” 

She stopped. 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve got it bad for you, too. Not just Adrien.” 

Was she blushing? Shit, she was definitely blushing. Alya scrambled for something to say, but Marinette wasn’t done. 

“I might not lose my head when I’m with you, but that doesn’t mean… no, what I mean is--you still make my heart go crazy when you kiss me in the mornings or hold my hand when we’re walking. Wow, that came out-” 

Alya nearly knocked Marinette off her feet with the force of her hug. As it was, she only stayed upright because Alya wouldn’t let her go, burying her face in Marinette’s neck as she tried to formulate a response. 

“You are so goddamn sweet,” she murmured, teasing her lips against her girlfriend’s neck. She was still holding her close, arms wrapped around in-

“MARINETTE!” 

Oh, _crap._ That was Sabine, alright, sticking her head out of the bakery door. Busted. 

“Gotta go! Seeyoutomorrowiloveyoubye!” 

Before Alya had a chance to respond, to blink, or to register that yes, that was an “I love you,” Marinette was gone. 

The walk home was a blur. Alya couldn’t have pointed out a single detail she passed on the way; there was only one thing on her mind. 

Walking up the stairs to her room felt like a dream. It was still sinking in as she sat at her computer, distractedly scrolling past news articles and clickbait on her browser. 

_I love you._

She put the computer into sleep mode and flopped down on her bed. A giggle worked its way from her chest unbidden, but she couldn’t help it. 

“Oh, Mari.” There was so much Alya wanted to say. So much she didn’t know how to put into words, or that she couldn’t manage to find the courage to spit out. The words felt hot in her gut, now, like she had to say them or they’d burn a hole right through her. 

So she did. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng… I am completely, irrevocably in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u liked leave a comment/kudos... i'm very petty and mostly motivated by attention


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien gets some (possibly) sage advice from his kwami, and adjusts to the new experience of having friends, plural.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bursts thru the gate of truth like in fma to bring you this update* 
> 
> yeah this took like, a month and a half. sorry about that. i hope i'll be able to start updating more consistently and taking this story somewhere now

“Hey Plagg, do you think Alya likes me?” 

The words were swallowed up by the high ceiling of Adrien’s cavernous room. He received no response. Laying on his bed, he couldn’t see the kwami anywhere, but… he listened closely. 

A quiet but distinct munching sound, punctuated occasionally by an appreciative sniff. 

“I can hear you eating, Plagg. I know you’re here.” 

His kwami floated out of the trash can (left empty once Adrien had accepted there was no way of keeping Plagg out of it) with a small morsel of his favorite camembert in his paws. 

“If you knew I was eating,” Plagg said slowly, as if speaking to someone particularly dull. “Then why did you speak to me?” 

“No cheese on the bed,” Adrien scolded. Plagg shrugged and finished his nugget of camembert in a single bite. “Anyways, I had a question.” 

“...Okay?” 

“Do you think Alya likes me?” 

Plagg scoffed. 

“God, I hope not. You spend enough time fending off that girl… choler, or something? Cholera?” 

Adrien swatted at Plagg, missing him by a foot. 

“Chloe, and you know that’s not what I meant! As a friend.” He raised a hand above his face, studying the lines of his palm. 

“Honestly? Didn’t have a clue what you meant. Humans make love so complicated, do you really expect me to keep track of your different names for it?” 

Whether or not Plagg was kidding, Adrien couldn’t tell. He didn’t sound like he was joking… if he thought about it, it didn’t all that unlikely that the kwami simply did not understand human relationships. The amount of care he had for subjects other than flavors of cheese could be measured in a thimble. 

“I’m not asking about love, Plagg. Just… you know, do you think she thought I was cool?” 

Plagg paused, mid-lick, from cleaning his paws, to shoot him a pitying look. 

“I’m not even dignifying that question with a response. However, if you’re worried about her “liking” you,” he said, and swooped up to nestle between Adrien’s head and the pillow, tiny paws pushing aside locks of golden hair. 

“She was talking to you, wasn’t she? You two were there for longer than you had to be. Her voice isn’t nearly as whiny as that dreadful Chloe girl, either. You really should just stop worrying about it.” 

Wisdom imparted, Plagg curled up against his chosen and began to purr softly, the soft vibrations felt more than heard. Adrien rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he did so. Plagg gave advice like a cactus gives hugs, but there was no denying that he felt a little better. And besides… maybe on this occasion, there was some substance to his kwami’s suggestion. 

Alya had been talking to him. Now, he wasn’t a perfect judge, but Adrien had received plenty of practice observing people behaving less than genuinely. His classmate’s enthusiasm had felt nothing short of genuine. 

She had even extended an offer to hang out, separate from these lessons. 

The lessons… yeah, that was a can of worms he didn’t feel like opening tonight. However this scheme of Nino’s turned out, Adrien could think about it another night. 

“Think you could get the light for me?” he mumbled, voice betraying a tiredness he hadn’t even realized was there. 

There was no response, but seconds later the light turned off with a barely audible click. 

Today had been good. Great, even. And he had a reason to look forward to tomorrow, a reason he’d had never been able to claim before. 

Tomorrow, Adrien would go see his friends. 

* * *

  
Tuesday morning came with sunshine and a light breeze, the clear kind of morning that promised a day of unmitigated beauty. Breakfast had foregone the dining room entirely and been prepared to go; Adrien ate in the car as he was driven to school. For no particular reason, he had asked to leave a full 20 minutes early that day. With no orders to the contrary (today, thankfully, was an uninterrupted regular school day), his driver had seen no reason not to indulge him.

Adrien hummed, tapping out a quick rhythm with his fingers against the leather seat. Familiar buildings passed by, and in a few short blocks they had pulled up in front of the College Francois-Dupont. With a quiet “thank you” to the driver, he stepped out of the black limousine and began making his way towards the entrance to the school. 

The hallways were markedly more quiet than Adrien was used to, a scant 20 minutes making the difference between a hallway full of chattering students and one empty save for the early risers--students depositing sports equipment for an after school game, or making up a test. 

_Probably won’t be anyone else here yet,_ he thought to himself as the classroom numbers counted down towards 019, his own. _Nino doesn’t get here until way later, I don’t know who else would-_

He opened the door. 

Alya. 

And Marinette, for that matter. Marinette, sitting on Alya’s lap. She had one arm around Alya’s waist and was looking at her with this _adorable_ smile while Alya spoke, gesturing madly with one hand. 

“No, babe, you don’t understand. You had to have seen it, it was _so cute_ , like-”

Here she stopped talking and made a strange gesture with one finger, almost like she was trying to… 

“So she scratched his chin? I’m sorry, I don’t get how this is worth freaking out over.” 

Alya shot her a look of pure betrayal. Adrien, halfway through the doorway, froze. There was only one thing she could be talking about, and it was, well. 

“You know, like how you scratch a cat under the chin?” 

Marinette looked at her dubiously. 

“Come on, you know what I mean, right? It was the goddamn cutest thing, I mean he totally melted into it, and just--you had to have seen it, okay?” 

“Okay, Alya, okay,” Marinette said with a long-suffering sigh. She kissed her girlfriend on the cheek, though, to let her know it was just a joke, then leaned her head against Alya’s chest. “I may not understand your strange obsessions, but I’ll support you in them.” 

Adrien felt hot. Was he blushing? The problem was, he knew exactly the moment Alya was discussing, when Ladybug had skipped her usual _'bien joue'_ for a scratch under the chin and a hug. To say he had melted into it--well, it wasn’t a bad description. It certainly wasn’t inaccurate, which made it all the more embarrassing. It wasn’t like his love for Ladybug was a secret, but knowing that someone else had seen what he had thought of as a private moment was weird. 

She had joked about it later, the admittedly catlike way that Chat Noir had leaned into her touch. He had sworn up and down that it was Plagg’s fault, and that those damn cat tendencies were invading every part of his life. 

It was only half a lie. The catlike urges really did get annoying from time to time. His enthusiasm for Ladybug scratching him under the chin had nothing to do with them. 

No sooner had Adrien made up his mind to walk out, to stop lurking in the doorway and give the two girls some space or go to his locker or _something_ than he heard a loud, curious voice call out, “Adrien? That you?” 

He stepped in. Alya grinned as she recognized him and waved him over. Marinette looked over at him but made no other move to acknowledge his presence, her head still leaning against Alya’s chest. The fact that she didn’t immediately freeze up was highly encouraging. 

(Was it weird that “didn’t immediately freeze up” was considered to be a victory when dealing with one of his classmates? Adrien was willing to give that a maybe, but he was alright with weird. Whatever the reason Marinette took so long to feel comfortable around him, Adrien was not going to ruin it by pushing the issue, not when actual progress had been made through classwork and school activities and, in one special occasion, through acting as a Chinese translator for her). 

“I knew it,” she said as he walked towards their desk. “Sit down,” she said, tapping Marinette’s empty seat next to her. Adrien deposited his bag, containing a sleeping Plagg, at his own seat and sat down at the far end of the bench seat. 

“I was just telling Marinette about this _incredibly_ cute thing with Ladybug and Chat Noir.” 

“She’s just a little bit excited about it,” Marinette said to him with an affectionate smirk and a glance aimed at the girl whose lap she was currently sitting on. 

“Oh?” Adrien said politely, like he hadn’t lived that incredibly cute thing, hadn’t lost sleep over that incredibly cute thing, playing it over and over in his mind. 

“Alright, so like, you know how…”

* * * 

At some point during Alya’s extremely long winded (and extremely detailed) retelling of the Ladynoir Chin Scratch Moment, as she had dubbed it, Marinette had ducked out from under one gesticulating arm and risen from her girlfriend’s lap, searching for a sketchbook. Having found it, she took a seat to the left of Alya on the bench and busied herself with drawing. With Adrien flanking the gesticulating reporter on her right, the three of them were quite the unusual sight, taking up half the bench.

“Now, I’m not saying the chin scratch isn’t cute,” Adrien said. “But you’ve gotta admit, that thing she does with the bell?.” 

Alya pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. 

“It’s reeeal cute.” 

“Fine,” she said, after a moment’s consideration. “You’re right, that is also adorable. Maybe, maybe a contender for the cutest of the Ladynoir things.” 

Adrien clapped his hands together in victory and grinned, honestly satisfied with the admission. Once he got over the fact that they were talking about his alter ego, gossiping with Alya about the superhero duo was a lot of fun. Any fatigue he’d woken up with had since burned off, and if he’d taken the time to realize, Adrien would notice that he was breathing a little easier, that his shoulders were less tense. Chasing the thread of conversation had come to him as easily as chasing a string, and his instincts were well honed. 

“I can’t believe you two are still talking about this,” Marinette cut in. When he looked over, her sketchbook was closed - Adrien hadn’t gotten a chance to see what she was drawing. His gaze lingered, 

“There are multitudes within each of their interactions. They’re _superheroes_ ,” Alya said, as though that explained everything. 

“That doesn’t mean that everything they do has to be analyzed under a microscope for meaning.” 

“Adrien, what do you think?” 

Truthfully, Adrien was of two minds. A part of him agreed with Marinette. No one knew better than him that Paris’s protectors were, in the end, just two people. But… why couldn’t Alya be right, too? Maybe all of his trust and sacrifice did mean something. 

That wasn’t so impossible, was it? 

“Adrien?” A sweet voice cut into his thoughts. Adrien blinked. 

Marinette was right in front of him, looking at him with curiosity and--a hint of worry? Heat flooded his face, and the urge to fidget was incredible. 

“I--um, both?” 

Alya barked out a short laugh, but Marinette just smiled. She then hopped off the table (he hadn’t noticed she was sitting on it, talk about distracted) and sat down next to him on the bench. 

“You might wanna get to your seat,” Marinette said. 

For the first time since he had sat down with the two girls, Adrien looked at the clock. 8:26. Shit, that meant-

Right on time, Nino walked in. Now Adrien really took a look around, standing up to scan the room. Without his noticing, almost the entire class had joined them in the classroom, some seated in their spots, some moving about. 

There was no denying it. He had been completely absorbed in that conversation. Ladybug could have walked through the room and he wouldn’t have noticed it. Maybe. He liked to think that he would have some ability to sense her. 

“Yo, Adrien!” Nino said warmly. He was in his seat now, bag deposited lazily at his feet. “You getting cozy over there? Homeroom’s about to start.” 

Getting--okay, wow, he _was_ like, really close to the two girls. Yet another thing he hadn’t noticed, this was getting out of hand. It was more _closeness_ than he was used to in his civilian life, and Adrien wasn't entirely sure what to do about it. 

Before he could get embarrassed, or god forbid, blush, Alya cut in. 

“Hell yeah, Agreste’s our homeboy now. It’s basically an immutable fact, written in noodles.” 

Adrien was not stunned. He was not, he was just blushing because--okay, yeah. Despite the fact that he had experienced it once with Nino, these enthusiastic overtures of friendship so readily offered still seemed like a miracle to him. 

So of course it was at this moment that Chloe Bourgeois walked in, followed by her supposed friend, Sabrina Raincomprix. Her arrival was immediately evident by her loud voice, cutting above the general chatter of the room. 

“Sabrina, take my bag to my seat,” she said lightly, handing her bag off to the girl while still looking at her phone. Adrien watched with a mounting sense of dread as she walked towards the aisle in the center of the classroom. She clicked her phone off and returned it to a pocket as she turned and took the first stair up. Chloe looked up, and immediately locked her gaze on Adrien, still sandwiched between Alya and Marinette. 

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Oh, dear. She was really moving, in loud deliberate steps of her flats. 

“What,” Chloe growled, sounding for all the world like she was regarding some particularly disgusting insect, “Are you doing?” 

Fuck. This was _it,_ this was what he was supposed to be able to do. And--and suddenly he understood why. He wanted to have this, hanging out with Alya and Marinette. It was new, and exciting, and a little bit scary. Adrien could say he had friends, multiple, to see at school. That was worth standing up for. 

It sounded so good in theory. But as he opened his mouth to speak, Chloe cut him off, continuing to speak around him in a tone that allowed no interruption. 

“Look at you, you--throwing yourself all over Adrikins, have you no shame? How dare you?” 

He took a deep breath. Stowed away all his anxieties, shuffled all the ‘what could go wrong’ scenarios into a dark corner where they could be ignored for a little while. 

“Chloe, they’re not--no one’s doing anything to me. I’m just sitting with them. We’re hanging out.” 

She looked surprised. Shocked, even. Him speaking up had not been in her consideration, not even a possibility. 

Unfortunately, Chloe was not easily dissuaded. 

“Adrien,” she said sweetly. And then

she reached out across the desk, hand going straight for his arm

and he couldn’t help it

Adrien flinched. 

For one horrible second, the eyes of all three girls were on him. After that, it was a bit of a blur of noise and action. Alya bristled, but it was Marinette that fired back a response. 

“Chloe, you heard it plain and simple. We’re not accosting him; he’s just sitting with us and talking.” She spoke surely and quickly. There was real intent behind her words; it was a different kind of ‘do-not-interrupt-me’ tone than his childhood friend employed. 

“You know, friendship? Remember what that is, Chloe?” 

Expecting Alya to stay out of this had been way too much to expect. 

“Of course I do, you idiot. I’m Adrien’s friend, so I know that he’s far too good to be friends with _you two._ ” 

This had been a mistake. Defending Alya and Marinette, telling Chloe off, it had done nothing. She was going to yell at his new maybe-friends and drive them off, she could cause an akuma, or she could even decide to hold up the class and call her dad, inconveniencing everyone around him, or-

Or Marinette was speaking up. 

“Is that really what you call it?” 

If her tone had been self-assured before, it now oozed confidence. This was a completely different Marinette than the one he Adrien sat up in his seat, a small shiver going down his spine. Alya shifted as well, leaning past him to watch. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ordering someone around, not listening when they tell you what they want, _deciding who they see?_ That’s what you call being a friend?” Marinette was only growing more determined. 

“Oh, you would lecture me when you’re-” 

“I would! Because that’s not friendship, that’s trying to control him!” 

Chloe froze. Her face was schooled instantly into a mask of indifference. 

Adrien controlled the flinch this time. She couldn’t have known. 

For an agonizing four seconds, Chloe held Marinette’s gaze. Those four seconds stretched into an eternity. What she saw in those blue eyes, Adrien couldn’t say, but without another word, Chloe turned on her heel and stomped off. 

“Sabrina! Are you done with my homework yet or what?” 

All three of the students breathed sighs of relief. Adrien turned to Marinette. On an impulse, he reached out and laid a hand on her arm. 

“Marinette, thank you,” he said quietly. Now that the situation was over with, he couldn’t believe they had gotten out of that without a tantrum or an akuma. 

“Oh, no, it was nothing,” she said, looking down at her lap. 

It wasn’t nothing. For some reason, he needed her to know that. 

“No, I mean it.” He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “I mean, right there… that’s how I wish I could talk to people. So, thank you.” 

Marinette looked up, and the reason she had been staring at her thighs became evident: she was blushing, a pretty pink staining her cheeks and distracting him horribly as she spoke. 

“Wow, I--You’re welcome.” 

A warm feeling suffused Adrien’s chest as his classmate accepted the compliment. This was progress. 

“Oh, um, Adrien? You might wanna get to your seat, homeroom’s about to start.” 

Compliment was good. The little smile Marinette gave him as she politely saved his ass? 

That was a whole different level of satisfaction. 

He slid onto the wooden bench next to Nino with 15 seconds to spare, and received a fist bump for his success. 

The class chattered, homeroom started. Adrien was ready to face the day. 

...But not before he filled Nino in.

Friends come first, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> marinette is overwhelmed by cute people, chloe had a bitter gay moment, alya is lowkey even more determined to befriend adrien now out of spite.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a kudos or comment. they mean the world to me.


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